A New Endeavour
by SVUAddicted
Summary: Set after The Second Wizarding War a now disgraced Rita Skeeter has spent the past year in hiding. Fired from the Daily Prophet and no longer writing. How will she pick up the pieces of her reputation? What will she do to make her way in this new world which for the most part does not want her work in it.


The muffled sound of peaceful sleep filled the air, comparatively warm given the room was a mixture of sad blacks and greys, oak beams creaked holding the waning ceiling up, paint that adorned the walls lay cracked and unkempt. Such a unpleasant sight, grim yet menacing. Most of this building was very much the same, corridors were as dimly lit as the Hogwarts dungeons and the atmosphere was just as cold. Yet this un-phased many of the inhabitants which resided there, because the people which chose to live in such depravity often felt the same way themselves. If you had been forced to enter these surroundings because you no longer have a galleon sitting in the bank, you weren't the most cheerful of beings. Shuffling from above interrupted the calm surroundings as dust and wood particles fall from the ceiling above speckling over the pale skinned face which lay unaware. Eye lids began to quiver uncomfortably as they were being awoken from their slumber.

It only took a brief few minutes for the dust to subside, she had already brushed most of it from her face and lay sleepily amongst the moth eaten covers. Her dirtied emerald green blouse was completely unbuttoned showing more of her pale flesh, but what was more concerning is how her hips and ribs protruded reflecting the lack of food. A rumbling stomach was another indication that she had indeed not eaten for days, because money is tight in these recent times, not having a job anymore meant she had no income. A flash of anger flickered across her misty green eyes but it had gone as quickly as it had come. It was her fault after all, agreeing with a mud blood to shut her mouth and stop telling lies for atleast year had finished her career for good. Nobody was going to be interested in the rundown version of her self, not grabbing the latest gossip, learning what life was really like for the people she had slandered in her past. More bitter thoughts swam around her mind, more what if's and maybe's. 'Face it your over' was the only thought that repeated it's self on a daily basis, maybe it was the way of life that forced her brain into a repetitious state of mind. Every day was the same, you couldn't decide whether the building was being used as a brothel or a hotel because on many a night the delightful sounds of ecstasy kept her awake. Who could blame them, there wasn't much to do around here apart from be intoxicated or have sex with strangers you won't remember or see the next day. Ah, that is probably why her shirt is unbuttoned and maroon bra loosely fitted. She rubbed her forehead whilst still lying in bed, not remembering if she even left this place last night, her memory presumably becoming worse from the alcohol.

"God my head is throbbing again, I probably should cut down on the fire whiskey" She hauled herself off the bed, her feet making contact with the bare floorboards, it soon became obvious that she had indeed been out that night given she was only in her blouse, bra and underwear.

"Aha, I should ask for payment sometime then I could get some cash. That was certainly make a good headline, renown author now bangs for a living. Well everyone loves a rebel! I could even turn it into a tragic love story. What do you think, Emeline?"

Emeline was her owl, one of the last things she brought before depravity struck. The owl was a spectacled owl, piercing yellow eyes and feathers of black and creamy white. Purchased on a brief trip to Argentina and since by a woman almost of the same nature. Oh course now Emeline emitted a soft hoot in response to her master's question.

"You wouldn't know, would ya? Just an owl! I know you don't like living here, but it's only for a while until me, myself and I are all up an running again, digging up all the latest gossip. Oh please do stop looking like that, makes me feel guilty"

Emeline turned away after that probably wishing she could fly again, but she's too recognisable because her owner was the only one in London which owned such a magnificent owl.

"Sorry Emeline I'll let you out tomorrow night- promise"

Just as the last words had passed her lips a harsh knock at the door sounded and both she and Emeline froze staring towards it. Followed by a scrambling in the background when she attempted to find her clothes.

"Somebody actually wanting to speak to me. Lovely"


End file.
